Every morning when I walk into my kitchen it looks tidy and ready for a day's work. Not so on this morning (above), I saw this when I walked in. Late the previous afternoon when I was looking for something, I came across my rolled up Zwilling vacuum bags and decided they had to be washed and dried. So I did that and although I usually put them outside on the verandah to dry it was dark by then. I turned the just-washed bags inside out and left them like this on a towel. It worked well and now the bags are ready to use when I bring home root vegetables, cabbages or whatever I buy that I want to last four or five weeks.
I love mornings here. It's still dark and quiet, I make a cup of tea and sit on the couch (Gracie's bed) and talk to her. I get a feeling that she enjoys it too. It gives me time to think about the work I'll do during the day. I go out into the world about three times a month. That suits me, I'm an (optimistic) introvert and I usually have more than enough to occupy my time every day at home.
And now that the cooler months are here, it feels right to be here in my home, staying warm and cozy. Yesterday, I wore a cardigan for the first time this year. I've already had my first soup and there are beef bones and a ham hock in the freezer to make more stock and soup. Simple winter food, like casseroles, stews and soup, is usually suitable for freezing. In the summer, cooking and housework take more effort and there's all that sweating. Yuck. 😕
Soon enough I go back to the bedroom, make my bed and get dressed for the day. Just before I come out again, I wipe the bathroom sink then open the windows to let fresh air in. Often, on the way back to the kitchen, I'll put on a load of washing and let it sit there until I turn the machine on when the sun hits the solar panels. This is my morning routine and despite the changes over the years it's a part of me now. It's a good way to get ready for another busy day full of housework and whatever else I need to do to continue living simply. As the sun comes up, the quiet stillness slowly fades away, the kettle boils, toast cooks and a new day begins. This is how I've built my simple life - one day at a time and one morning at a time.
I'm still using this little wet mop. A few years ago Sunny, Kerry and Jamie brought it back from Korea and gave it to me as a much loved gift. Gracie is still very wary of it and follows it around whenever it's cleaning. Most of the time the floors here are steam cleaned, but this handy cleaner does a thorough clean and I don't even have to touch it.
I feel sure about myself today, it's my 77th birthday so I know I'll have visitors and phone calls and work in the garden; after breakfast I'll bake some muffins. When I walk into the back yard I often feel there is a transparent bubble gently lowering over me. I feel that bubble most days - it protects me and tells me that I'm safe here, I can do and be as I please. As long as I take it slow, I can move pots and benches, then move them back if I want to. I am rebuilding my back garden - I ripped the garden out soon after Hanno died, created a front garden in pots and almost straight away, I realised it wasn't what I wanted. Then I stewed over the work I put into that change. When I set the pots out in the back garden again it made me smile. Making mistakes is a great way of learning what you really need. Don't let a mistake paralyse you - learn from it.
I do a lot of thinking in the back garden and know, with certainty, that it's my place. The birds recognise me, I know where the sun and shade will be during every season and I can sit and think or wander around and get creative. I've spent 27 of my 77 years in this place and I've been here long enough to know that on the bad days and the good ones, there is no other place in the entire world that I'd rather be. 🩵 💛 💚